“Get in, madafakas. Yamada’s been waiting for you all night.”

I glance over at Margo, and she shrugs before climbing into the backseat. Looks like she’s learned quickly to just go with whatever Yamada has in mind.

I follow suit and climb into the passenger seat. My ass no sooner hits the seat before Yamada mashes the gas, sending us shrieking down the dirt road.

“Whoa!” I grab the dashboard and reach for the seat belt to buckle myself in. The last thing I need is to fall out of a speeding vehicle because of Yamada’s crazy driving. “Have you slept at all since I spoke to you last night?”

“Sleep?” he says with a chuckle. “No time for that. Yamada was busy entertaining. Everyone Yamada knows is here to celebrate my new island. Those madafakas are still up partying.”

I furrow my brow. “Who did you invite?”

“Everyone,” he emphasizes. “I put the invite out to all my friends on social media, and most of them showed up.”

“Jesus. Social media? You’ll have every freak you’ve ever met here.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. I don’t know why I expected this to be a quiet weekend because I know how Yamada is. He’s not the type who only attends a party—he is the party.

He reaches over and grabs my shoulder, giving it a little shake. “Don’t worry, King. You special. Yamada saved you and Dime Piece a room. The rest of the assholes here have to sleep in tents.”

I shake my head at my crazy friend.

The massive main house that we spotted from the helicopter comes into view, and my jaw drops as I take in the crowd gathered around front. Yamada wasn’t kidding when he said he invited everyone. There are bodies wearing only bikinis and swimming trunks as far as the eye can see.

Yamada whips the Jeep into a parking spot right in front of the house and then pops up out of his seat. “Yamada’s back, bitches. Get the music started. Time to celebrate this wedding right!”

The crowd cheers and most of the people hold up cups of beer.

My eyes widen. “What is this, Yamada?”

Yamada jumps out of the Jeep then turns to me and grins. “Best man’s job is to throw parties, and who better to throw you a reception than Yamada?”

I step out of the vehicle and help Margo out. I open my mouth to tell Yamada that we didn’t need a party—that our marriage was a mistake and now it’s part of a business deal, nothing more—but Margo places her hand on my chest, stopping me from saying anything at all.

“That’s very nice of you, Yamada. Thank you,” Margo tells him and then pats me on the chest. “We appreciate it.”

This seems to please him because his smile grows wider. “Welcome. Now, let’s party.”

He takes us both by the hand and leads us into the awaiting crowd. Most of the people among all these dancing bodies are people I’ve never seen before, but leave it to Yamada to throw a rager on a private island.

Some hip-hop song blasts through the speakers, and while Yamada busies himself rapping along to the song, I grind against Margo.

She smiles as she wraps her arms around my neck and swings her hips to the beat. It’s the first time since Vegas that we’ve had fun like this, and it’s nice.

After a few more songs, Margo pushes up on her tiptoes to talk into my ear. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want anything?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you.” It’s a nice gesture for her to think of me.

I smile as I watch her walk off toward the bar inside the house. Who knew Margo Buchanan would end up being so nice to me. I follow behind her, not wanting her to feel like she has to fetch me a drink like she does at work. I cringe at the thought that delegating that task made her feel like a servant. It was wrong of me, and I won’t ask her to do it again.

When I approach the bar, the first thing I see is a man standing next to Margo a little too close for my liking. He turns toward her and leans his side against the bar so that he can fix his gaze on her. I can tell by the way he’s watching her that he’s thinking about making a move, but what he doesn’t know is that she’s already been taken. By me.

The guy is about my height, with about twenty pounds or so on me, but that doesn’t matter. If he makes a move on Margo, he’ll lose a fucking arm.

The bartender takes Margo’s order and then turns his attention to the guy next to Margo and asks him for his order. “Bud Light, and buy this pretty woman next to me another round of whatever she just ordered.”

“No thanks,” Margo says stiffly.

The guy touches her arm, and I just lose my fucking head. There’s no way in hell I am going to stand here and allow another man to touch what’s mine.

I shove his hand away and step between Margo and him. “She said no, motherfucker. Hit the fucking road.”

The man’s face turns white as a sheet, and he takes a step back. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know she was claimed.”

“Beat it, pussy,” is all I say to cause the man to turn tail and run.

“Aww, shit. Yamada missed another King throw down. Damn, it’s sexy when you get all fired up,” Yamada teases. “Next time an ass kicking is brewing, come get Yamada. We can throw down.”

I laugh. “Next time, they’re all yours.”

That seems to satisfy him because he turns and disappears into the crowd, leaving Margo and me standing there.

I pull her into my arms. “You all right?”